Opera Ghost
by YinWolvern
Summary: A teen has always dreamed about seeing the abandoned Opera house since she was little, and now that she's old enough to go on her own, once she sees inside for the first time, she's given an experience with a being that she'll never forget. (1 Chapter story. Enjoy!)


I could never understand why this old opera house had been closed. As big as it was and as many shows they had performed in it, you would have never thought that it would run out of funding. It was old and yet still beautiful in its old age. It made me happy to know people didn't tag it and it simply was just falling apart out of simple age. Sitting on the edge of town, people still passed by it, poster's faded and torn but still stuck to the outside of it.

Being a part of choir, this opera house fascinated me since I was a child. I had never been inside but now that I was eighteen, I couldn't wait to walk in.

At the time, my obsession for the opera house stemmed from my love for Phantom of the Opera. A story of love, despair, deceit, betrayal, and heartbreak. Never in my life did I hear another story that matched its beauty.  
Phantom of the opera painted a picture of what I imagined all operas to be. Bright, music flowing from all corners of the room and scenes so real into the story it felt as if you were in another time. I didn't know what I was going to see in that opera house, but I knew that I couldn't wait for it.

I was alone as I approached it. The opera house seemed as if in its own little bubble, the world around it silent. The doors were almost inviting but I expected them to be locked. Unlike me, however, I simply reached forward and tugged on the door. To my surprise, it opened to me and immersed me in a smell of dust and the musty age of wood and metal.

Taking a deep breath, I ventured forward into the past, hearing the click of the doors shutting behind me.

The lobby was breath taking. Golden statues still stood on place on opposite ends, in poses of goddesses and one of an angel with its wings wrapped around its frame. As chipped and dusty as they were, they still held the glory of their age. My heels tapped on the marble flooring and echoed as I walked alone, the silence almost befriending me.

I felt a small skip in my step and smiled, showing such a soft movement of excitement, twirling on my heel as I came to the main doors to the stage. That was where I wanted to be. On the stage. To imagine myself in a place of a different world.

Just as the doors outside, the doors to the opera stage opened to me and allowed me further in. And just as before, the smell of dust and old velvet hit me but it wasn't a bad smell. It led my mind to imagine stepping into this time as just another patron. A woman to see an opera, to gossip with her friends, to see a story played out before my eyes.

A time of music and artwork.

The velvet red seats still sat as they had years before, dust covering their color and cobwebs hanging in the corners that made the second level of seats above me. Just above the set of seats and just in front of the stage hung a beautiful chandelier, dust covered and pieces of crystal missing, but beautiful all the same.

The stage was relatively dark, as was the rest of the room. But holes in the ceiling provided enough light to see by and one stream of sunlight almost made a perfect spotlight at the edge of the stage. Feeling my excitement grow, my pace quickened and led me to the stage, faster than my mind could keep up with my movements.

I took the steps up to the stage, careful as if the floor was too old and would collapse. But, it held my weight and allowed me to stand below the sunlight spotlight. I stood there, staring at the darkened, dirty seats. I imagined myself in another place.

I imagined myself as Christine Da'ae, standing in her first performance. Watchful eyes gazing at a young singer they had not ever seen before. Before I could realize it, my voice before to sing out in different notes. And yet, I didn't want to sing her first song. I wanted to sing her duet. Her first part to the phantom. I wanted to hear my voice echo off these walls, imagine a crowd listening to me.

 _"In sleep he sang to me,  
In dreams he came,  
That voice which calls to me and speaks my name,  
And do I dream again for now I find,  
The Phantom of the Opera is there,  
Inside my mind."_

I stopped gently after, listening to my singing echo off the empty walls. I stood there, in that makeshift spotlight and laughed softly to myself. No one was there to listen yet it was wonderful to pretend. To stand on a stage and sing as I had done. To a beautiful song no less.  
Though, to my surprise, I was not alone.

As I turned to leave the stage, a voice confronted mine. A singing that matched to my part, in my duet.

 _"Sing once again with me  
Our strange duet  
My power over you grows stronger yet"_

I stopped dead in my tracks. The voice was beautiful. A male continuing the duet I had started. I looked and turned to find him, to find this person.

 _"And though you turn from me to glance behind  
The Phantom of the Opera is there  
Inside your mind"_

Who was this? The song was not hard to know, truly. But this voice was perfect and sang it as if truly it meant something deep within him. And it compelled me but frightened me at the same time.

"Hello?! Is someone there?!"

My yelling went unnoticed, unanswered, or unheard. I shook my head and jumped from the stage, heading to the door. I couldn't stay here. Another voice was singing to me, it was mocking me. Someone had snuck in as well and was fooling with me.

As my fingertips brushed the door handle, a cold chill fell through my spine and a voice spoke to me. Almost as if in my head or close enough to be just at my side.

" **Don't.** "

The voice was clear as day but I could not see anyone near me.

 **"Stay...sing…"**

It frightened me that this person was speaking to me or this thing. I didn't know now. I could see no one, yet he was around. He could hear me, could see me.

I swallowed hard. The doors were unlocked; I could leave right now and call this a dream. I could say that I had imagined it. But I didn't.

My hand pulled itself from the door and though my heart raced in my chest, hammering against my ribcage in either fear or excitement, I continued just as the voice instructed.

 _"Those who have seen your face  
Draw back in fear  
I am the mask you wear."_

I turned back to the stage as the male voice accompanied me once again.

 _"It's me they hear…"_

My steps back to the stage were almost as if I was being led there. As we continued, I could hear the music rising from somewhere. I don't know where it came from but it became one with our voices.

 _"My spirit and my voice,  
In one combined."_

I stepped up the steps onto the stage once more, into the light and stared into the audience seats once more as we continued, the male voice accompanying my own in an almost perfect manner.

 _"The Phantom of the Opera is there  
Inside your mind"_

I couldn't see him still and yet his voice was as strong as my own, perfectly coinciding with the mysterious music that played from an empty orchestra pit. My breathing became hard yet I still had the urge to continue, to do as this voice told me. Soft voices came with the music, bringing me to sing more. The gentle nudging of voices to continue.

And yet, my voice was almost a whisper as I continued.

 _"He's there, The Phantom of the Opera!"_

It was compelling, he or it was compelling. The music moved me in a way I couldn't explain as I wished only to sing to this person.  
My voice grew higher, a pitch I had not even realized I could get myself into. I vocalized sincerely, my voice pitching and singing to this being.

 _"Sing my angel of music."_

I did as I was told, continuing to sing for a presence I didn't see. Yet at this command, my eyes were taken to the second level of seats. In the shadows, I could make out a figure standing there. Shrouded in darkness as he was, it would have been easy to have spot him before. A white side of his face was the only true thing I could make out, yet he could see all of me in the light I stood in.

 _"Sing my angel."_

He continued to command me and I continued to do as he said, my voice vocalizing higher and the music rising with it. It was almost deafening to me, my heart racing and my lungs hurting and crying out for air yet I couldn't stop singing.

As I kept singing, I could see the lights on the walls and the chandelier above me light themselves, their glows slowly growing and yet becoming stronger as my voice became stronger.

 _"Sing for me."_

My mind went to a blank as I kept with the song I knew. Slightly pausing but still growing higher and playing to the music that surrounded me. The opera house was empty, I knew it was! It was abandoned, there was no one here but me, but the voices still came, the music played, the lights were coming on and a phantom was there, singing to me in a duet!

Was I crazy? Was this a fantasy? A dream?

 _"Sing..."_

His commands continued despite what I wanted to believe. This was not a dream; it was all too real to me. I could do nothing more but continue, singing for this opera ghost.

 _"Sing my angel!"_

There was a pressure in the room as his commands came on stronger, almost as if with anger or a pride of wanting to show my voice was his.

My voice rose higher, echoing with the music playing. The lights around the room grew stronger and bright the more I sang. They became bright enough to light the room. It was as if I was one stage at the first opening. The room was cleaned of the dust and webs, completely reconstructed. I was seeing it in prime condition yet I didn't even know what that looked like! It was beautiful to say the least.

And yet, the light was also enough to let me see the figure standing above me, looking down upon me and singing with me in the phantom's duet. The figure was the makeup of the phantom. A black outfit and a mask completing a side of his face.

I could not mask my surprise or my heart leaping at the sight of the actual figure of the phantom before me, his hand casted out towards me as if to pull me from the stage as he commanded me. Our eyes met as he sang the order to me once more.

 _ **"Sing for me!"**_

I could take it no longer and voiced myself higher than before. The lights grew and blinded me.

My voice gave out and I collapsed to the ground of the stage, grasping at my throat and gasping for air. At the same time, the lights cut out just as my voice gave, engulfing me in the darkness of the room. It took a few moments for my eyes to come back to me from the blinding light. I looked back up to the second level once my eyes were better, expecting to still see him there.

But there was nothing. His presence was gone. I looked around once, expecting to see him somewhere close by but there was nothing.  
I stood slowly. I could not see him but I could still hear his voice ringing in my head, feel the music playing around me though it was silent. I could hear it still. I could feel a watchful gaze on me as I stood there. Simply gazing, curious.

There was nothing, however, and I took my time to leave the stage. My breathing still hurt yet it all felt worth it.

My leaving was uninterrupted and I simply walked from the Opera house to my world once again. However, it almost felt as if a presence was sad to see me go.

I later learned that the opera house had its electricity cut many years before. The lights were unexplainable to me as I truly believed it to not be a dream or my imagination.

Had I taken steps back into history? Was the Phantom of the Opera truly just a story or did some story similar happen? Was the voice I sang with truly the phantom? Did he believe me to be his partner, his duet singer? Was he an Angel of Music as the story told?

Regardless of the story to be true or not, it never stopped me from going back to that Opera house in hopes of singing once more with the Phantom of the Opera.


End file.
